As I've mentioned before, I'm not exactly a social butterfly, and after high school, I was mostly a moth.

In high school I was lucky enough to live 20mins away from the beach. So when my parents used to fight, I'd go for a stroll in the late afternoon.
I'd get to the beach, take off whatever was keeping me warm, and slowly walk into the freezing ocean.

This was a daily occurrence, but during winter, it was generally a very quick dip, I'd get in waist deep, take as many deep breaths as I could manage.. one last deep breath, and I'd dive in...
I could swim about 30m under water, so that's what I'd do, it's about the only way I could stay in the freezing water for over a minute.

I'd flex all my muscles (yes, all of the ones I could) and dive in.. my legs were almost used to the water by then, so it's only my torso that was feeling the stabbings from the freezing water, not that it made any difference, my main problem was lungs, three strokes in, and my lungs are half their size. Ten more strokes and my fingers started cramping up from the lack of oxygen.

I'd take a few extra strokes and then hope that I had enough juice to get to the surface.

In summer, the water is warmer, so I swim out. Not too far.. probably not even 2km, but far enough for jetski wankers to stop and ask me if I'm ok. (yeah, I'm showing off my swimming skills, what else have I got?)

Summer thunderstorms
were my favorite; by the time I'd walk to the beach, I'd already be soaking wet, so sometimes I wouldn't even bother taking my clothes off and walk right in. Lightning and sharks were just part of the adventure.

I didn't manage to make any friends at Uni either, so I was still mostly on my lonesome, but by then I figured out that beer is a pretty good substitute. I'd often get some beer, bring my guitar and just chill at the beach with my new friends. By this stage my parents were divorced, so I wasn't trying to get away from anything. Probably just trying to find something instead.

This was before everyone had mobile phones, so I'd just sit there, watch the water, and listen to the waves.

I was unfortunate enough to be there for some sort of a school break up.. dozens of loud teenagers, you get the drift.

Instead of leaving, I just moved about 10m down the beach, away from the action.

A couple of girls decided to intrude my bubble of solitude... The classy kind, massive pink plastic rings 'n all. Back then (and mostly now) I wasn't big on chit chats; I'd often ask people what they thought about life, universe and everything and if I didn't like the answer, I'd do an Edd.

(back then I wasn't exactly a ladies man, quite clueless, nowadays women throw themselves at my feet obviously, but at the time women made no sense and and they never agreed with my best buddy Euclid)

You may be surprised, these girls didn't intrigue me one bit, they didn't notice my superior Russian intellect and just kept talking. This was rarely an issue for me back then. In those situations I'd often use my Russian tact, and people would leave me the hell alone.

Not these two

They talked and talked... I remember one of them saying she was homeless for a while. I told her, this is Australia. You literally have to walk out of your house and not want another house to live in to be homeless here.

That didn't stop them.

Not long after, she was proudly telling me that she was dating a 30yr old when she was 16. (I'm not a Puritan, but I generally suggest that you keep it to yourself and in the bedroom, or kitchen, or anywhere really, just keep that thing away from me).

My social skills haven't improved much since then, but my genuine question at the time, was "so you're a slut?"

I felt like it was quite a reasonable query after an in-depth assessment, but Stasik wasn't in Soviet Kansas anymore. She quickly listed all the English swear words she could think of, took a little run up and with a nice swing, landed a perfect right hook, pink plastic ring STRAIGHT into my temple. I nearly keeled over right there and then. Well.. I sort of did, I was sitting up on a concrete fence, and then I was pretty much laying on it.

I had just enough time to recover, sit up, say "FUCK, that's a good one" and to give her a quizzical look, before she continued. That self defense strategy didn't quite work, so I was quite confused as how to proceed. Luckily she didn't have that problem, and neither did her friend. They worked well as a team, I guess the other one must've been a leftie, because the barrage of punches just kept coming. Not (I want to say) girl punches, but full on, no holding back punches. I was mostly worried about the first punch, it was completely unexpected (yeah yeah), bitch nearly took me out, I tilted my head down for the rest and figured I'd just ride it out. I CAN'T HIT GIRLS.

They were very energetic, so after 20-30 blows I started getting worried.

I stood up, grabbed her by the wrist half way through a punch, gave her the "wtf are you doing woman?" look and said DON'T MAKE ME DO IT!

I don't hit girls and she saw it.

She replied with "What?! Are you gonna hit a girl?"

It felt a bit awkward holding her wrist like that, a bit intimate for my liking. No one taught me what to do in this situation, so I let go. She didn't waste any time and started laying into me yet again.

I was struggling by that stage, I was a fucking machine, but this shit didn't compute, and even I have limits.

I was trying to figure out what those limits are, but thankfully some kid ran up behind me and bottled me across the back of the head.

All the naughty kids ran off and I quietly decided to knock the block off the next crazy bitch that punched me.

As it later turned out, after Russia, I'm pretty much no longer able to physically hurt people, men or women, at least not in self defense.

Damn shame.

Zephronias says: SHOULD'VE KICKED HER IN THE BREAD BASKET

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.